


All of Me

by Sol1056



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Gen, Medical Trauma, POV Duo Maxwell, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-23
Updated: 2003-12-23
Packaged: 2018-12-23 00:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056
Summary: I'm a former Gundam pilot, but I was never a special case, really. I lucked into the role, and my nonexistent childhood was hardly one of grooming for anything spectacular. I gave everything I had for war. Relena gave everything she had for peace.





	All of Me

**Author's Note:**

> written for Psyche's Women at War challenge "to generate non-romantic stories featuring the women of Gundam Wing."

"This is my favorite cap," she announces, pulling the black cap down farther on her head.

I smile at her, and glance over her head at the woman behind the counter. The lady's glasses are rimmed with blue plastic, and she smiles at the young woman with me, and continues taking the hangers from the new clothes without pause. Efficiently folding them, she slides them into a bag and hands it to me.

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Maxwell," she tells me, her voice a little tremulous with age. She beams at Relena, who holds on tighter to the cap. "And you have a good day, Miss Darlian."

"It's a good day," Relena chirps. "Today is different from yesterday. Right?" She turns those blue eyes on me, checking to make sure. Her hands grip the cap tightly.

"Right," I say, and smile. It does the trick, and she releases the cap. I take one of her hands and lead her from the department, noting the other security guards keeping their distance. "Alright, gorgeous, want to get a cookie before we go?"

"Cookies make a good day," she says, and her smile doesn't reach her eyes.

I sigh and nod. Nothing reaches her eyes, anymore.

 

 

 

Three years ago, Relena had effectively hammered, cajoled, and persuaded the various representatives into a peace accord. Accepted by the colonies and earth alike, she was the earth sphere's crowning glory. I thought Heero was going to pop a button on his jacket from pride at what she'd achieved. So it might have taken a microscope and night goggles for a stranger to see any difference in his expression, but I could tell.

It was only a few months afterwards that she asked us to come work for her. Death threats were becoming as popular in her mailbox as the letters and cards from children. Most of the threats were inconsequential; loonies will always find you, I guess. Some, though, knew enough about her daily schedule, or her personal preferences in shopping, eating, and days off that it disturbed her enough to admit she wanted someone to watch her back.

Heero couldn't do it all the time, and he didn't trust the usual ranks of diplomatic security, so I joined him. Trowa stood in, sometimes, and of course Quatre made himself available as an informal bodyguard when his work sent him into the same circles as Relena. Wufei was working with Preventers full-time, but he helped out when he could.

It wasn't like working for her was a burden; she was a gracious if whimsical hostess. She short-sheeted my bed once, and greased the doorknob on Heero's hotel room. She slicked up the toilet seat when Wufei came to visit, and replaced Quatre's silk ties with joke ties that looked like dead fish. He wore the ties, anyway. He's probably the only one who could carry it off. Trowa fell asleep on-duty once, and Relena snuck under the table and deftly tied his shoelaces together. Believe me, he never fell asleep around her again. The rest of the guys said it was my influence, but I always staunchly proclaimed my innocence. Some things I guess a girl learns on her own.

The days wore on, and turned into months. Letters and cards continued to arrive, sorted into threatening, suspicious, harmless, critical, and adoring. Most were scribbled letters from school children, and Relena made sure to answer each faithfully. Quatre and I used to joke that Lena was now Queen of Pen pals, but she'd just roll her eyes and keep on signing her little personalized notes.

The conflicts in the Pan-Pacific region, centuries old, sprang up again, and I went with her. At first, there was a certain level of notoriety that accompanied her, thanks to one of us standing behind her. A woman of peace wasn't supposed to be protected by the five most dangerous men on the planet, as one newspaper put it.

Lena had the article framed. She thought it was hysterical.

I just enjoyed watching her work. The tensions were high among the Laotian delegates, who were arguing that the economic sanctions in the wake of the One Year War should no longer apply. Relena didn't speak the language, but watching her work was like standing in the wings while the Russian Ballet takes the stage.

She had grace. Just that indefinable ability to stare down just about anyone, and yet hackles didn't go up around her. I stared at people over her shoulders, and eyes would drop away from me, shifting to the side. Relena stared at people, and they were mesmerized.

Relena knew better than to cross her legs in Korea, or to point at people in Japan. She never raised her voice in Sweden, and wore long sleeves in August in Jordan. If the rule is when in Rome, then Relena was a living, breathing, Roman in any damn country.

Oh, don't get me wrong. She didn't always get results. It was Heero who stood by her as she left South Africa, tears pouring down her cheeks as the plane lifted off. The delegates had refused to step outside their clan loyalties to agree on a peaceful conclusion, and Lena had worked herself hoarse, talking and listening and arguing for five days. Nothing worked, and she blamed herself harshly.

Perhaps that's the other reason for having a few Gundam pilots around. We're maybe the only other people her age who understand hard choices. Relena wasn't advocating killing anyone - far from it - but compromises mean both sides lose something, to gain a larger good. Noin would have understood that, but Noin was still working with the Terraforming project. When she got back, it was too late.

 

 

 

"I once went to Antarctica," Lena tells me as I unlock the door to her apartment. It's a secure area within the diplomatic embassy for Earth Sphere officials in Bremen. I nod absently and step into the apartment, checking automatically to make sure nothing was disturbed.

Lena pushes past me, and I set her purchases on the chair by the door. They'll stay there for a day or two, until Trowa or I put them away for her. Not too many people are allowed in here.

"Okay, gorgeous, dinner time! Hungry?" I look around, and realize she's not next to me. I find her in the bathroom, her jeans and underwear undone, and pushed down to her knees. I make a face and start to push her down on the seat, but she refuses to budge.

She's staring at her reflection, a petulant look in her eyes. Her hair' s grown back, but the scar on her forehead is still in place. I place my hands on her shoulders, avoiding my own reflection. Her blue eyes see me, and she frowns, puzzled.

"Do you know if... " Her face screws up, and I brace myself. Within seconds she's screaming, shaking, her fists flying out in all directions, and I can only hold her tight as her fury works its way through her. What really breaks my heart, though, is that she never cries. She screams, she stomps her feet, and would throw things if anything handy is nearby, but no tears.

Two or three minutes, and it's passed, and she slumps in my arms, exhausted. I remind her about why she went into the bathroom, and wait outside. Once she's done, I carefully guide her to the sofa, letting her sit. I turn on the television and she's immediately drawn to it. It doesn't take long, and she's forgotten I'm there.

I cook dinner for the two of us, checking on her every four or five minutes. She'll grow bored after about ten minutes of watching television, and start looking for something else to do. Fortunately, she seems to be fascinated by my cooking, and at least will wander in where I can keep an eye on her.

"I want to dance," she tells me, and plays with a carrot.

I slide the tray into the oven, set the timer, and turn around, a smile back on my face. "What do you want to dance to?" I ask, because it's the way we do things, but I know the answer.

She starts to hum, and I take her in my arms. We do an easy two-step in a circle, around the kitchen island, past the barstools, and back into the kitchen.

 

 

 

She was pretty when we first met, if a little too clean-cut for my taste. Besides, I was merely the sidekick of the guy she adored. To his credit, Heero wasn't cruel to her. Ignoring the constant threat to kill her, but that seemed to be part of their mating dance. We laughed about it, the six of us, after the wars.

But she grew into a gorgeous young woman. The baby fat melted away, and although she never gained her brother's height, she had his high cheekbones and cool blue eyes, and firm jaw. The distance in Zechs' temperament was warmed by her natural compassion. Trowa used to tell me he found it amusing how many men would glare at him when she'd take his arm.

I think it was a protective streak. She wasn't truly that petite, only five or six inches shorter than me. But that's enough that sometimes it surprised me that I'd grown tall enough to have to lower my chin to see her. So she wasn't that tiny, but I supposed the delicate, pale skin, and the big blue eyes just gave the impression of fragility. She had an enchanting smile, like she'd just heard the best joke and couldn't wait to tell you. Or other times, it was a shy smile that made you feel like the two of you were sharing a private joke. Such smiles would give her the faintest hint of a blush in her cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the beautiful, glowing high color she'd get when faced with a challenge.

And she'd faced enough of those. It all started two months after the war, when the representatives from L2 and L3 came seeking her assistance. They wanted someone that people on Earth would listen to, and they were out of resources, and out of options.

I'd taken a break from Hilde's business to accompany the delegates. I wasn't a bodyguard or anything fancy. I'd say I was more of a prop. Look, here's our Gundam pilot. Ignoring that I wasn't 'theirs' for a good chunk of the One Year War, but Relena didn't blink.

She sussed it right out, instantly, that the delegates thought I was a trump card of some sort, if they were left to their own devices for presenting their case. And she politely smiled, as though we'd never met and I'd never teased her about chasing after Heero. The delegates were charmed, but when she got down to brass tacks, they were blown away. I spent most of the meeting lounging in the background and trying not to laugh through my teeth.

I mean, she had that knack for assessing her audience and knowing the right thing to say. Just that turn of phrase, the calm look in her blue eyes, the way she tilts her head when she smiled to the side. She'd do that during speeches and afterwards sixteen different people would swear she was looking right at them. She could relate to people. I guess that's the reason she could do what she did.

Like that time, arguing for L2 and L3's war relief programs. Relena took the case, and took on the entire group of Earth representatives, berating them publicly for their refusal to assist the colonies in the post-war reconstruction. She stood there, still a young woman, her slim blue skirt and neat little jacket with the good luck pin on the lapel that Quatre gave her... and she gave those old men hell. Oh, she was polite about it, but she made it clear that she'd seen her own country go up in flames. The entire Earth Sphere was a battlefield and the world had been on fire, she said. I remember that phrase.

Man, she's still here, but I wish it were all of her.

 

 

 

Her humming resolves into off-key singing by the second turn, and I take up the song, whisper-singing it under my breath to her. I don't think I'm a good singer, but it makes her lips turn up to hear me.

"Take my lips, I want to lose them," I sing. "Take my arms, I'll never use them... "

I say it makes her lips turn up, because she doesn't really smile. Or laugh, or cry, or feel much of anything. It's all a mockery of the warmth she used to display as easily as breathing. But she seems to be happiest when we dance, so it's what we do.

 

 

 

The death threats and stalkers were getting worse. At least Relena didn't do dedications of national monuments or large statues, so we didn't have to worry about that kind of event, where the majority of the public would be civilians. No, she firmly believed the money was better spent rebuilding hospitals and schools, and bringing industry to areas ravaged by years of war. There was a large ribbon cutting for a medical university on L3, and Relena would be giving a speech.

Heero wasn't happy about the lack of security in the wide-open lot behind the hospital, and the hundreds of routes of access and exit for would-be attackers. It would be closer to the truth to say he was furious, and frustrated with the lack of understanding on the part of the L3 organizers. Heero called me in, and Trowa; Quatre would already be there as one of the dignitaries funding the hospital. Wufei even managed to make it, and the night before, the five of us treated Relena to pizza and beer.

It was the last time we'd hear her truly laugh.

 

 

 

"Dinner's ready," I tell her. Her face screws up as I release her, and I sigh. "Come on, gorgeous, let's eat."

The nickname brings back a momentary smile, and she obediently sits at the table, a fork in her left hand. She's never learned to hold utensils, despite our best attempts. The physical therapist told us not to worry about it, after a year of trying.

"Tomorrow Heero will be here," I say, testing the waters.

"The bad man," she says, and stabs at her food with her fork. "Bad, bad, bad."

"He's not a bad man," I say. "He'll keep you safe."

Relena ignores me. "Bad, bad, bad!"

I reach across the table and grab her hand. "Eat it, gorgeous, don't stab it."

She frowns, staring at the fork for a second, and then begins to carefully scoop the chicken pieces into her mouth.

"Tomorrow," I say, trying again, "you're going to see the work that's being done removing water depth charges. That sounds exciting."

"Water charges," she repeats, her mouth full. "Those are extremely dangerous for ships, especially in high traffic waterways. It's important that we disable them as soon as possible, to prevent long-term impacts on water-based industries."

I blink, and smile approvingly. Sometimes, she's back, and it's always a little startling. Relena will be fine tomorrow; I suspect her memories of Heero scare the stuffing out of her and she's forced to concentrate. When she does, she can come back for a little while, but it'll be up to Heero to make sure she doesn't wear herself out. If she does, the event will go downhill into a screaming temper tantrum, instantly.

Yeah, the world knows, in the same way you know winter means snow and summer means heat. You know it, and you don't think about it, and that makes it easier to deal with. Except for those of us in the midst of winter's fire and summer's chill, where nothing is ever going to make sense again.

 

 

 

"Maxwell, stop slacking off," Heero reprimanded me. I rolled my eyes at him, and grinned over his shoulder at Relena's long-suffering expression. Heero snorted, and stepped in the way, blocking my view. "Check in every five minutes."

"No problem," I told him, shoving the earpiece into my ear and clamping the voice box transmitter around my neck. There was no dealing with Yuy when he was in work-mode, but at least he wasn't waving a gun in my face. He'd learned to save that for people who really did mean him harm. I only meant him misery, mostly in the form of forcing him to have fun. And for Yuy, time off was hell.

Relena watched Heero leave, his notes in one hand, and grinned at me. Taking my arm, we strolled across the field behind the hospital. I could give a lazy grin with the rest of them, but I was already watching the people making their way past the security stops. I could see exactly what Heero had warned us of: there were too many people, and too few security guards. In just a few seconds of casual watching, I saw at least thirty people stroll right past the guard stands without pausing.

It didn't stop me from grinning at Relena in return, as she muttered under her breath. She wasn't talking to me; she insisted on memorizing all her speeches, and would run through them before the event or conference started. It was like her ritual. It calmed her, and when she'd speak, the words would roll off her tongue like they were appearing spontaneously, springing full-grown from the tongue of Relena.

She interrupted her practice to yawn, and barely had a chance to cover her mouth. "God, I'm so exhausted. Is it time to go home yet?"

"Just a little while, gorgeous," I replied, helping her up on the stage. "Wow these people properly and then we'll go find a good way to torment Wufei."

"I was thinking miniature golf," she told me with a cheeky grin, kneeling on the edge of the stage to stay at level height with me. "I bet I can kick all your asses. I saw a course on the way here."

I smirked, turning so I could run my gaze over the crowd again. Speaking over my shoulder, I told her, "what you need is a real vacation. You haven't taken more than a day off in a month, in a year. Maybe more."

Relena shrugged. "This is what I do, Duo. I can't do it halfway."

"Doesn't mean you can't have a little time to yourself."

She laughed, and poked me in the shoulder. "Aren't you the one who tells me you'll sleep when you're dead? No," she said, her tone growing sober. "There's too much to do."

"And there's only one of you," I commented. I stared at a man moving through the crowd, my instinct on alert. He stepped out from behind an older couple, and I could see his security uniform. I relaxed. Someone who's carrying is always going to walk a little different, but security was expected to carry. My own gun was tucked into the back of my jeans, and a second one at my ankle.

"Heero would have a heart attack if there were two of me," she replied cheerfully. "Hmm. There's an idea. Are clones legal yet?"

"Lena, you were such a sweet girl when I first met you," I told her. "I despair of ever finding you a good husband at the rate you're going."

"Don't need one," she replied, grinning. "Not unless you know someone into sharing."

"Most guys are. But not sharing all of you."

"Yeah," she said, sighing, but then smiled at me again, that winsome smile like we were the only two in the world who knew the secret we'd shared. "The world needs all of me. Everyone else will have to wait."

I nodded and pushed away from the stage, giving her a half-wave over my shoulder. Moving into position at the edge of the crowd, a good twenty feet from the stage, I checked in with Heero. I could hear Wufei and Trowa checking in over their comm. links, and caught Quatre's wave as he climbed up on the stage and seated himself next to Relena.

 

 

 

The phone rings, and I reach over and grab it, turning the screen so it points away from Relena, who's staring avidly at some car commercial. She's playing with her long hair, twirling it around her finger.

"Maxwell," I say, but I keep my voice down, my eyes flicking constantly over to Lena.

"Yuy," Heero says. I glance at him, and his face softens. "Thought it was bedtime."

"Almost. You ready for tomorrow?"

He nods. "Wufei will be in town next week. You want the day off?"

I think about that. "No."

"I insist."

I knew he would.

Heero raises an eyebrow. "Want company?"

I grin at him. He knows the answer, but it's still a pleasure to hear the question. Relena makes a disgusted noise, and I look over to see her hitting her fists on the chair arms. The commercial is for some detergent, and the young woman on the screen seems to have infuriated Relena somehow. I watch for a second, but she calms down quickly and goes back to humming softly.

"Long day?" Heero tilts his head, as though he can see off-screen to where Relena sits, rocking as she plays with her hair.

"She's not too happy about you taking over for a day," I warn him.

"I'll take her dancing," he says, his tone sorrowful. He stares down, away from the vid-phone camera, and I can only see a flash of something across his face before his business mask falls into place. "Yuy out," he says, and the screen shuts down.

I roll my eyes at that. He still does that. He's never going to learn to say any of the things normal people say, the little courtesies, the minor details that Relena could always do so flawlessly. I glance over at her, and stand up.

"Come on, gorgeous, there's a bed with your name on it," I tell her.

"I want my cap!"

I nod and spend several minutes looking for it, finally finding it on the bathroom floor. I shove it down on her head, and she laughs absently, following me to the bedroom. I give her ten minutes, but when I return she's still dressed, and is looking at pictures.

"I like him," she says, pointing to a picture of Trowa and Catherine. "He knows how to ride elephants."

"Yes, he does," I say. "It's bedtime. Pajamas."

"I want to dance," she orders. "Dance and bed."

I can never tell her No. That's probably a good deal of the reason Yuy always calls at ten o'clock, every night. If he didn't, I'd let her do what she wanted, until three in the morning. I can stay up that late, and what little happiness I can eke out for her... I'm willing to, and to hell with Yuy's rules.

Smiling gently, I take her in my arms, singing along as she begins to hum.

"Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry," I croon softly, swinging her in a circle as we sashay back and forth across her bedroom floor. "How can I go on, dear, without you... "

 

 

 

She was in surgery for nine hours, until the doctors agreed they simply couldn't keep her on the table for any longer. She was in a coma for three weeks. When they released me, three days later after the incident, I went straight to her room. Quatre was at her side. He'd been crying, and I sat across from him, feeling drained and helpless.

She was so small, and pale, lying in that bed. Under the bandages, we could tell a large part had been shaved, and somehow that hit me harder than anything else. I hadn't cried since I was eight.

But that day, I cried for hours. I held her limp hand to my own bandaged face, until Heero came to take my place.

 

 

 

"Now," I tell her, bringing her to a halt by the bed. "Pajamas. Bed. Sleep." I kiss her on the nose, and she frowns at me.

"This is my favorite cap," she says, tugging on the brim until it's low over her eyes. It's the one I wore during the One Year War, but she adopted it after the incident to cover where they'd shaved her. Now it's a permanent fixture, albeit a ratty one, but she refuses any replacements.

"It looks good on you, gorgeous," I tell her.

"You have to leave," Relena orders, her blue eyes flashing. "I'm not married to you. You're not allowed to see me naked."

"You promise to really put on your pajamas?"

She squints and tugs at the cap again.

I grin and turn her around, pushing her towards the dresser. "Get ready for bed, and I'll come back and tuck you in."

"Tomorrow I want to visit my mother," she says suddenly.

I stop, hesitating at the doorway, and do my best to paste a smile on my face. "I'm sure she'll be glad to see you, gorgeous."

"Am I?" Her voice is lost, and forlorn.

"Are you what?" I pause, turning to see her staring at her reflection. She'd pushed the cap up, and is fingering the scar again. "Lena, you really are gorgeous, inside and out."

"Even the middle?" She looks unconvinced, and pushes at the scar with a finger.

"Inside, outside, and everything in between." I give her a smile and step out of the doorway, pulling the door half-closed behind me. "You are," I whisper to the empty hallway. "All of you."

 

 

 

Relena had just finished her speech, and the crowd came to its feet, applauding not only the new hospital but especially her announcements of a successful trade accord with the two newest resource satellites. It'd mean at least two thousand new jobs for L3, and she was beaming as the people responded to the hope she always carried.

Then I saw the gun.

I remember some of what happened, but only flashes. I remember noting the gun's make and model, though I couldn't say afterwards what it was. I remember registering instantly the trajectory of the bullet, from the stalker dressed like a security guard, up to the stage to Relena. I remember registering I was in the way.

Wufei told me later what he'd seen from his position. The guy stayed seated while others stood, which meant he was shooting up. I was in the way.

No, that's not the entire truth.

I wasn't in the way enough.

 

 

 

I tap on the bedroom door. "You decent?"

Relena laughs softly, tonelessly.

I push the door open, and click off the light. I can still handle the dark, although my peripheral vision is barely mediocre now. I make my way to her bed, and lean over to kiss her on the forehead. Pulling the blankets up around her chin, I seat myself on the bed and begin the ritual all of us pilots do with her, each time it's our turn.

"Tomorrow will be a better day," I say.

"Today was a long day," she replies.

"It was," I agree. "But things can always get better."

"Sometimes I think they won't."

"But they will. Just wait and see." I smile and stand up. "If you need me, I'm just in the next room."

She nods, a small movement in the darkness, and I let myself out, leaving her bedroom door open a few inches. Relena prefers just a little bit of light, enough to keep the worst of the darkness away.

I lean against the wall in the hallway and remember.

 

 

 

Three months after the shooting, Relena was still unsteady on her feet. Her memory hadn't returned entirely, and what memory she did have was jumbled completely. Heero was a bad man who'd threatened repeatedly to kill her. Quatre was a handsome aristocrat who'd been a student at her school in Sanq. I somehow had become a famous basketball player. It would have been funny, but it wasn't, really. She had no memories of Wufei, which troubled him greatly. And she developed an instant crush on Trowa, which embarrassed the private and reticent pilot to no end.

She spat nails when showed a picture of Zechs, with only vague memories of being sent away, with him angry with her. Unsurprisingly, she had remembered the most about Noin, but that's probably because the two were nearly inseparable for nearly two years, when Noin protected Relena on Zechs' behalf.

Most of the rest of her memories are nothing but a jumble. Sometimes her father is alive; sometimes he's dead. She knows intellectually the things she's done, and her age, but she's distanced. Thoughts aren't connected to feelings, and feelings come and go with frightening speed.

The bullet hit an inch above her nose, burrowing straight into the brain, through the two lobes, severing the cord connecting the two halves. The doctors struggled for hours to reconnect what they could, but our technology is only advanced when it comes to war. The brain is still a mysterious organ, and one of the doctors admitted to Heero that they'd had to do rapid-fire research on centuries-old psychiatric techniques to find out information on likely results from the injury.

I'm a former Gundam pilot, but I was never a special case, really. I lucked into the role, and my nonexistent childhood was hardly one of grooming for anything spectacular. I gave everything I had for war. Relena gave everything she had for peace. Which of us deserves more to live, I ask myself, like I do every night after tucking her into bed.

I knew it. I saw the bullet leave the gun. I remember that flash. I remember knowing if I stepped just a bit to the right, it wouldn't hit her. If I stayed where I was, it would. I hesitated, in that split second, as though momentarily trying to achieve both. I wanted to live, a vicious and brutal truth I rarely admit, even now. So I refused, in that split second, to do what was expected, what was required. I didn't give everything.

I held something back.

I slide down the wall, sitting in a heap outside her bedroom door, and listen to the soft sound of her breathing. I cross my ankles and stare at the wall opposite. I'll stay here for another half-hour or so, until I'm sure she's asleep, and then I'll go watch a movie or something. Heero will be here soon, and he'll be waiting when she wakes up.

"All of me," I sing quietly. "Why not take all of me... Can't you see, I'm no good without you... "

But this half-hour, this day, this month, this past year, somehow, I'll make up for not being willing to do what Relena did so effortlessly. I lean my head back, humming softly under my breath.

"You took the part that once was my heart," I sing softly. "So why not take all of me... "

  



End file.
